


Boo-boos and Whiskey

by the_spookable_smoosh



Category: Uncharted (Video Games), Uncharted 4: A Thief's End - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Reader Cusses A Lot, Reader is a treasure hunter, Sam has a boo boo, and there was only one bed, comment if you like it pls, i hope I portrayed Sam right, it inspires me to write, leave a kudos if you hate it, leave a kudos if you love it, like a lot, ok enough tags hope you enjoy, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29679855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_spookable_smoosh/pseuds/the_spookable_smoosh
Summary: There was only one bed. That's the summary. I'm horrible at titles. Sorry.
Relationships: Sam Drake x Reader, Sam Drake/Reader, Sam Morgan x Reader, Sam Morgan/Reader, Samuel Drake x Reader - Relationship, Samuel Drake/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Boo-boos and Whiskey

Filthy. That's what we were. Covered in enough shit, piss, blood, muck, and gunk to scare away the nastiest of pigs. On top of that- no fucking treasure. Damn necklace had been moved. Sam and I were both pissed to say the least. I had it on good authority that the necklace was in that cave. Sam tried to talk me out of it ‘Oh, it's too dangerous, oh, you don't really know if it’s there’. Motherfucker was always too smart for his own good. 

I pulled into the parking lot of the skeezy motel we had found in the phonebook. Sam hopped out and I went to park the car. After searching for a parking spot for five minutes, I gave up and parked in the mud. It was a rental that we had definitely lost our deposit on already, so hey, fuck it. 

I strolled up to the office of the motel to see Sam walking out with our room keys- no, room  _ key. _

“Where's mine?” I ask him. Sam looks at me apologetically and I knew what he was gonna say. 

“Of course. Of course there's only one room. At the very least I don't have to sleep next to your hulking ass all night.” 

Sam gave me another look.

“Oh, fuck me.” 

  
  


There was only one bed. A queen bed at that. 

I set my go bag down on the floor. Even if the chair in the corner already had questionable stains on it, I didn't want to piss off the motel owners more then I already had by parking on their lawn. 

“You gonna shower?” I ask Sam. 

“Ladies first.” Sam spoke softly, he knew how much this deal meant to me. 

“People with worse injuries first.” I replied. I had seen Sam get cut with that knife. Some stray mercenaries were in that cave with us and Sam had gotten into a rather messy confrontation with one before I stepped in.

“Fine.” Sam started towards the bathroom but turned back towards me. “Thank you.” He said. I knew he meant for more than letting him have the prize share of hot water. I gave him a small nod in return. He went off to shower where I heard various grunts and groans as he cleaned his wounds. What else could he be grunting about in the shower? 

After 15 minutes or so he walks out of the bathroom, a towel draped around his waist. I averted my eyes quickly which he, of course, noticed. He didn't say anything, but I could just feel him filing away that information in that massive fucking brain of his. 

My shower went quicker than Sam’s. I took less care of my hair. I also had fewer injuries to clean. By the time I stepped out of the shower the hot water was long gone. I wrapped the towel over my breasts and walked into the room. Sam saw me and quickly averted  _ his _ eyes. He turned away from me, allowing a minimum sense of privacy as I got dressed. I pulled on sweatpants and a large brown Henley. Sam’s Henley, I think. If it ever was his I stole it long ago. 

“You can turn around now.” Sam did as he was told. He had put on some sweatpants, very similar to mine, but left his shirt off so I could stitch that wound on his arm. He gave me a small smile and spoke softly.

“Nice shirt.” He took the bottom hem of it between his fingers. I smiled at him, too tired to come up with a witty reply. I just wanted to patch his wounds and get to sleep. 

I patted a place on the bed in front of me. Sam brought his first aid kid over to me and set it on the bed. He sat angled half away from me, to give me the best access to his right bicep. I wiped down the wound with an antiseptic cloth as Sam began working on threading the needle. His hands were shaking and after three or four tries he was getting frustrated.

“Stupid.. fucking thing..” he mumbled under his breath.

I set my hand on his. “Let me.”

Sam turned to me and something in his eyes looked different. Brighter. Like a lightbulb clicked on.

“You alright there?” I asked, hand still on his. 

“Yeah, yeah. I'm- just dandy.” Sam’s eyes were still locked on mine with that bright intensity to them. 

I took the needle from him and threaded it on the first try. Just as I was about to put the needle in he started. 

“Wait!” Sam jogged across the room to the mini-bar. He grabbed a rather large bottle of Jack Daniel’s and walked back. “Ok.” He grabbed the lid with his teeth and spit it out. “Ready.”

After he took a few swallows I pushed the needle through his skin. He gave a small yelp but nothing more. Sam was fine after that. Drinking and humming a little diddy. I finished the last stitch and grabbed the bandages. Two layers of cotton and two layers of tape. 

“Done already?” Sam’s voice was rough from the sting of the whiskey. 

“Finished. Sleep?” I said as Sam pulled a gray tee on.

“Sleep.” Sam stood and walked over to the chair in the corner. He sat down, closed his eyes, and looked to be falling asleep.

“Whatcha doing?” 

“Sleeping. You should do the same. Gotta wake up early to chase that lead Sully got us.”

“Why are you in the chair?” Sam popped an eye open at that.

“Why wouldn't I be?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“Christ, Sam, I may be a prick but I'm not a monster. Get in bed.” I scoffed at his ridiculousness and laid down. After a second of no movement I rolled over to face him.

He was looking at me with a confused face.

“You sure?”

“Jesus, Sam, it's not like we’re fucking. Share the bed for one night and tomorrow we’ll get another room. We’re fucking adults, dude.” My words sound harsh but he knew it was just how I spoke. Being raised in the treasure hunting life is worse than being raised by sailors- in terms of the evolution of a potty mouth. 

Sam chuckled and got into the other side of the bed. He was laid on one edge and me on the other. With plenty of space between us, Sam spoke. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Sam.”

  
  


The next morning the sun shone through the blinds. My eyes fluttered open and all I could see was a very poorly done prison tattoo. Of birds. My asleep brain wasn't processing this so I looked around some more. A stubbled chin above me. One very large arm under my head, the other draped over my side. I shifted my legs slightly to get my bearings. One leg was curled beneath me and the other was laying on a strong thigh. I looked down slightly to my hands. They were clenched tightly around Sam’s gray tee shirt. My brain finally finished waking up and I slowly tried to move away from Sam. His grip on me only tightened. I felt like a child’s doll. With no other choice, I spoke softly into Sam’s neck and patted his chest with my hands.

“Sam, Sam wake up. It's time to wake up.”

I heard shifting above me and then happy sleepy hazel eyes were suddenly staring into mine. 

“Mornin, girlie.” Sam made no effort to move. His eyes closed and then suddenly ripped open. Sam yanked his body away from mine and stood up so fast i thought he'd teleported.

“I- I uh- sorry. Shit- I'm sorry.” Sam looked at me with so much sadness in his eyes. Before I could tell him it was fine- that I slept amazingly- he raced into the bathroom. 

“Good morning to you too, Sam.” I said to no one but the empty air. 


End file.
